"WEDNESDAY NIGHT HORROR"

" RANDY TANDY "

Most beings in this world start out with a neutral disposition. It is the same with animals of all species. They learn to be good or evil based on what they are taught. Once in a millennium, a creature is born that defies all reasoning. The Evil in them is inherent. They are born with it. The angels said that it was true with Satan. It was the same for Randy Tandy.

The night that Alison Tandy went into labor, they all knew something was wrong. As soon as her water broke, she started hemorrhaging. It was September 15, 1960 and no one had a clue the mother was being eaten alive from the inside. The fetal monitors showed the baby had a strong heartbeat, but the pain and terror of the mother was evident. Alison showed signs of weakening, but the child was in perfect health.

The baby was born Randal Baal Tandy, the second of two children. His mother died giving birth. He was born from a womb without a placenta, with a full set of teeth. Some say he was a gift from God, that it was a miracle he survived. Others knew he was the spawn of Satan and it didn’t take him long to reveal it.

Jonathan Tandy brought his son home to a large house in Vance, AL. He was a pillar in the community, a judge by profession and a deacon at the local church. From early in childhood, they realized the boy was different. Randy Tandy was walking at the age of four months, but never spoke a word. The only thing that came from him was a high pitch squeal that would touch your soul.

When the child turned two, he went missing. The community searched for a week, before he was found in an area called Bama Rock Gardens. Pictures were taken of the him. He was found alive, but covered in blood. The rocks where they found him were encrusted with human remains. It was a sacrificial stone used by the local Indians to give praise to their God. No bodies were ever found, no accomplices ever came forward, but the blood tested positive as human. There was a ten-year-old girl, who went missing in Bibb County, her body was never found.

Jonathan Tandy was mortified. It hurt him to see his son so deeply engrained in evil. He knew that Randy was brought into this world by Satan himself. He called the minister of the church and asked if the leaders would come together to discuss an urgent mattter.

“He is the beast. I know that.” Jonathan said to the men of the church.

Reverend Jones sat with his hand over his mouth while the others took turns speaking.

“The child needs to be hospitalized. He is just sick.” Tim Smith said, as he stood and tried to make sense of what was happening.

“You don’t understand. I live with him. I brought him into this world. I see the evil in him every night. The child ate my wife alive. He is from my loins and I will be the one to dispose of him.”

“Do you hear what you are saying Jonathan?” Tim said. “You are talking about murdering a young child, YOUR CHILD.”

“He is no ordinary child. That thing is not human. Randy is a Demon and he must be destroyed.”

The preacher stood up fast and raised his hand high in the air.

“No one will kill a chihere. We will get him help and I never want to hear another word spoken in anger against one of God's children.”

Members of the community became frightened of the boy. Jonathan retired from his Judges position and collected only a small salary from the state. He relinquished his position as deacon of the church. Randy Tandy was never seen again by anyone in the community and soon forgotten. His father had built a metal cage in the barn, where he was imprisoned. Danny watched his brother from his window, but wasn’t allowed to have any contact with him.

The days turned into years. It was Danny’s tenth birthday. The barn was closed up tight and for the first time in years, the neighbors were allowed at the old home place.

Randy watched through the cracks, as children laughed and played. The overalls he wore were hand-me-downs from his brother. They hadn’t been washed since the day he put them on. The boys hair was stringy and nasty. For more than an hour, the children played around the barn, not knowing the horror that lay just beyond the door.

Darkness set in at the old mansion and you could feel the evil in the air. The children started to play hide and go-seek. Andy James always won. All the children knew he had no fear. He would hide in the smallest of cracks without trepidation.

“One-thousand ten, ready or not here I come.” The hunter yelled.

Andy lifted the wooden plank that held the barn door closed and ran inside. He placed his arm across his face to block the odor. The small metal room caught his attention. A bar was the only device holding the door closed. Andy removed the metal bar and the clang of the rod rang out. A heavy thump came from the room. For a moment, Andy thought someone had ran into the barn. When he turned, there was no one. The room looked odd to him and he began to look around.

“Why would anyone make a door like this?”

For a brief second, he contemplated hiding in another spot. He looked around the barn, but knew this was perfect. The metal hinges squeaked as the door came open. For the first time ever, Andy's heart raced with fear. Something deep within him sounded a warning.

"Don't go in. Leave now. Run as fast as you can."

Children don't listen to their inner voice. He stepped into the dark, leaving the heavy entrance partially opened. A boy came to the open barn, peered in side, then ran away. Andy smiled knowing he made the right decision.

The smell in the room, suddenly grew worse. His nose burned from the odor. Musky warm air eased across the back of his neck. Every muscle in his body tensed. A sound came from behind him. He wanted to run, fear paralyzed his mind. The shrill scream sounded in his ear. Urine ran down his pants leg. He twisted around, Randy Tandy's face pressed against him, nose to nose. His dark eyes looked into his soul. Andy tried to escape. Nails ripped into his flesh. Pain surged through his body. The only noise heard from the metal room, was the sound of death.

The adults searched the estate for the child, but he was never found. The local authorities brought out dogs. They tried desperately to find him. While they were gone, Jonathan Tandy went to the metal room where he imprisoned his son. Slowly, he stepped inside. He raised the flashlight. The light reflected off the metal surface and revealed a horrifying scene. There were splatters over the entire room. Fragments of hair were scattered on the dirt floor. A drop of liquid fell on his face. Slowly, he looked up. The name RANDY TANDY was written with the blood of the child on the ten-foot ceiling.

Two days later, to the surprise of his father, Randy Tandy came back to his cage. Jonathan stood looking at the feral child with hate and disgust. He knew what must be done. The small bass boat hooked to the truck with ease. The dog cage, where he placed his son, was small, but very secure. Randy turned circles in his soon to be tomb, then pulled on the bars trying to escape. Jonathan tossed the cage in the boat and covered it with a quilt, made from burlap sacks.

The squeals that came from the cage, sent chills down Jonathan’s spine. He looked back at the boat, climbed into the truck and headed to lock 13 of the Warrior River. It was the beginning of December and the boat ramp was quiet, except for the horrific sounds, coming from under the blanket.

The water was 80-feet deep, in the middle of the river, where the boat came to a halt. He knew the heavy metal cage would sink to the bottom and it would never be found. The engine idled and the wake of the river caused the boat to shift. He fell to his knees and his face was level with the cage. Jonathan open his eyes and the demon boy grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up to the bars. His nails were thick and pointed. They dug into his scalp, as he struggled to escape. A piercing sound came from his lungs, then a demonic growl. His father had never heard the boy utter a word. Jonathan’s nose was against the cage, his fear was confounded with anger.

“Who are you?” he yelled.

The demonic child looked at him with a face was gray and distorted. His forehead and eyes were wrinkled and his skin had aged like an old man. The boy released his father and he kicked wildly to get away from the box. The engine of the boat stopped. There was silence on the water. A voice only heard in the depths of hell came from his lips.

“Evil.” The boy gurgled.

Jonathan jumped to his feet, his heart raced. He lifted the cage and threw it over the side. He watched as the box sunk. The child’s fiery red eyes never closed. He watched his father, without expression, all the way to the bottom. Even at the depth of eighty feet, Jonathan could see them, peering up, condemning him. Air bubbles broke the water’s surface. He sat down on the metal seat and began to sob.

The sun was starting to set by the time Jonathan came to his senses. The engine started without a sputter and the small boat slowly cruised down the river. He rubbed his eyes, as the tears dried in the wind. For a moment, his heart stopped. On the bank, stood Randy Tandy. His wet stringy hair was filled with mud from the murky bottom of the Warrior River.

Jonathan fell back onto the side of the boat, horrified. He struggled to control the boat as it eased through the water. He turned and watched the ghost of his son as he went out of sight. A twist of the handle, maxed out the engine and the boat bounced on the choppy water.

In the distance, the pier marked the location of the boat landing. Jonathan turned the boat toward the wooden platform, then released the throttle. It brought the craft to a slow stop in the middle of the river. The boy stood on the pier. His eyes were dark and muddy water dripped from his hair. His face was expressionless. Randy’s eyes pierced the distance and found the mind of his father. The man screamed as he saw the absolute evil within his son’s mind. His lungs filled, then exhaled several times, screaming, as he tried desperately to clear the images.

Jonathan turned the boat toward Holt lock and Damn. He had to escape. If he could get there first, he would jump onto the dam’s walkway. He turned around looking toward the pier. He knew the ghostly image of his son would be there staring at him, convicting him of a father’s sin, against his son. The pier was empty. He released the throttle and the boat drifted as he contemplated his next move.

The boat rocked slightly. Jonathan looked forward. The boy sat on the front of the boat. The fright of seeing him brought too much pressure on his heart. He grabbed his chest and tried to get as far back on the boat as he could. Randy Tandy stood. His feet never moved. They now seem to drag under him as he came toward his executioner.

Jonathan moved backwards, then fell into the cold water. He tried desperately to breathe. His face broke the surface. Water spewed from his mouth. He coughed the blockage from his lungs. His arms extended to the side of the boat. The metal boat was slippery and he struggled to hold the side. Randy Tandy came up from the murky depths of the river. He pulled down on his fathers legs. The flesh tore away from his ankle. Pain seared through his consciousness. His fingers slipped. Jonathan Tandy screamed for God to help him. Panic filled his mind, as the river filled his lungs. Slowly, he descended into the darkness.

It is said that the Black Warrior River doesn’t give up it’s dead. Some people say it rises up and grabs you. We know the truth. Along the banks of the dark stained water, you can still see a young boy. He will be staring out at you, waiting for the moment you least expect him. Don’t speak of him in the dark. He wants you to say his name, Randy Tandy. If you do, he will find you.